The Star Catchers,
Like ants on a rotting carcass,
Swarmed across the berm
Where storm gourged waves
Had flung their flotsam,
Collecting starfish, helpless
Starfish, for retail to the
Tourist trade.
"They bring good money, don'tcha know,
Clean them off, when they
Harden...bring good money."
Aways down the beach
A star thrower would
Bend and reach and with
A mighty throw, hurl
Starfish back over the waves
Back into the sea.
"What are you doing?"
"Not enough," he said.
"I try to throw them past
The breakers, I can't
Compete with the takers,
But I do what I can."
